


Fantasies Unearthed

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Series: Not Everyone Has a Cobblepot [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood Kink, Coming In Pants, Gorey my loves, M/M, deleted scene from a much larger fic, likely will make no sense out of context XD, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: Edward needs more detail when Oswald says he'll kill Jim. So they roleplay it out and it isn't pretty. Or maybe it is depending on what you're into. Very gorey. Bloody. These two are into the kinky kind of stuff.Set as an alternate to the make out scene in chapter 14 of Life Only Gives You One. Check out the Not Everyone Has A Cobblepot Series page for more info, dears.





	Fantasies Unearthed

**Author's Note:**

> For you, Riz. My inspiration for this fic and the person who motivates me to keep going always. <3

Oswald pulled back a little and trailed kisses over Ed’s flushed cheeks and down his jawline. Hot, hungry kisses that relished affection against his skin and left Ed’s already trembling and panting form all the more desperate-- not for their feeling, but for the words Oswald spoke as he delivered them. Each kiss came with a trailing of a promise and that promise made Ed whimper with want.

“If Jim Gordon… Ever tried to actually do anything… To take you away from me… I would string him up by his wrists, remove his skin, and gut his body.. Ensuring he was alive for all of it… Ensuring he FELT all of it….” Oswald smirked and Ed shuddered softly, feeling his excitement mounting with each and every syllable. The words “oh dear” slipped from his lips in a harsh, lust wrenched whisper. Then Oswald added in a low voice, as he ground his hips  hard up against Ed, four words that seemed punctuated by his hips hitting just that right spot against him. “Because. You. Are. Mine.”

The words resonated through Ed’s body in a way which was unfamiliar and yet altogether entirely and utterly haunting. As if he had been waiting for this. As if he needed to be filled with Oswald’s words to really understand the depth of what he was capable of experiencing. His body shuddered for the promise of his voice. Oh, but there should be more, right?  Edward needed more… He could feel it edging in Oswald’s tone-- in his voice. That promise of a threat played in Edward’s mind, but he struggled to see it. He needed more detail, more words, more description. He gently pulled away from Oswald, running hands over his shoulders and pressing fresh soft kisses to his lips. “Tell me _more_.” He murmured softly, his tone verging on truly desperate as he seemed to utter the word which became a theme inside his own head.

“More?” He asked softly, a dip in his tone as his brow raised. “About how you’re mine?” He teased, leaning in as his eyes slipped closed and his smirking lips puckered to place a soft kiss on his lips. Ohh… That was a tempting offer. To have it detailed to him how the criminal seemingly possessed him so thoroughly. That would be a… a lovely conversation, and Edward mentally checks off the idea that they will discuss it later.

“N-no…. About Jim…. Tell me… Tell me how you would do it.” His voice is hesitant but also so very steeped in proper desire that he chokes on the sentiment a little. His other self is in his head, just as eager for more, but also far less abashed about the fact. Enough of being coy! He wanted this, and it was in his right to have it. It was time he was forceful-- demanding even perhaps. Oswald wanted to soothe him after all, and he had been late for their lunch and even tried to hide a very damning conversation with Detective Gordon. He had things to make up for with Ed, and this was certainly a start. His resolution of just what he deserved faltered a little when Oswald looked pensive.  “Please, Oswald… I… I so admire your work…” Ed quickly added in a much softer tone, and with a blush creeping over his cheeks-- perhaps he would never be so very bold as he felt he had the very inherent right to be, but the good news was that Oswald was quite fond of that blush of Ed’s and that way he offered shy compliments. And so, he drew a breath and shifted Ed up from his lap with a smirk.

He seemed to have rather suddenly had an idea.

“Stand up…. Yes like that… Take off your jacket.... Now lift your arms up.” Ed did as he asked instantly, but stared down at him with wide and unsure eyes. Oswald ran a hand up along his right side, fingers brushing over the indentations of his ribs through his linen shirt. The touch alone had the taller man’s breath catch in his throat. Oswald did that to Ed a lot though. It wasn’t until he spoke though that every fiber in Ed’s being screeched to a grinding halt and the world around him went into a blinding haze. “First I would use a knife to cut through the skin here, making an incision to run along his side like this… And then another from the initial cut like this…” He used his fingers to move up along Ed’s side, showing the way he’d make a rectangular sort of shape, able to them peel back a piece of Gordon’s skin and reveal his rib cage.  Ed could feel his heart in his throat, but even as he was utterly in awe of the other man, he found it in him to offer help.

“A scalpel would uh… It would be better…. For that kind of cut…. And… And he-he would likely lose consciousness from the pain if not the blood loss… I… If I can suggest…..” Ed was trembling and stammering with his arms still raised above his head to mimic a tied up Jim Gordon. His eyes were wide as they caught the gleam of--- was that amusement in Oswald’s eyes?

“Oh, please do,” He said very amenable sounding to Ed’s helpful suggestions, even as he moved away from Ed to look for something there in the morgue. “You know how much I value your invaluable intelligence, Edward.” And from anyone else, Ed would have felt a sting of sarcasm with the words, but with Oswald, he only felt pride and flattery wash over him.

“Well, I would think a man in your position could likely find some generic local aesthetic you could use to inject in the site before making the incisions. A lignocaine and adrenaline cocktail should do the trick to numb his rib cage and ensure a lasting effect to allow you the desired target which I assume is him living long enough to see his body stripped of skin…” Even as Ed spoke in clinical terms, he felt his own body reacting to the mental image of being able to help Oswald with such an occasion. Perhaps he could help administer the injection. When Oswald turned back to face Ed, it was with a clear smile of approval.

“Well you are the one with a degree in biochemistry.” When he spoke, Edward wasn’t sure what caused the smile on his face to widen quite so much as it did. Whether it had been the fact Oswald remembered something about him or was commending him on it-- or the fact he was holding two different scalpels of Ed’s, an instrument in each hand as he continued to look approvingly at Edward. “Which of these would be better, dear heart?”

Ed felt like he was going to pass out. This was all so much. Too much, for sure. He had never done more than kiss Oswald and now they were in his place, his office, his morgue about to… Well, this was so very…. This was the most intimate experience he had ever had. With anyone. Before his mind could wander too far, Ed gave a dry swallow and nodded to the side. “Th-the one on the left.”  It was the number 10 blade. Extra fine. Beautifully glinting in the light as Oswald gently replaced the unchosen one and moved into Ed’s personal space.

“The one on the left it is… Any further suggestions?” He asked and teasingly tapped Ed on the chin with the flat side of the blade. It was affectionate and wonderful, and it also made Ed realize another thing that would have to be altered if this were to be realistic as a simulation of what he’d have done to Gordon.

“You’d need to lay him down….” He said as it occurred to him.

“I would?” Oswald lifted his brows a little.

“Y-yes… You would… You should lay him down to make all the torture easier for you, and easier to reach and clean up after… A-and to ensure he has a better angle to look at what you’re doing… “ He said, glancing down at where Oswald had earlier touched with his fingers against his rib cage. Perhaps JIm Gordon didn’t need another view, but if Ed was going to properly imagine this-- well, he did. Oswald clearly could see how much it all meant to Ed and how much he was loving this-- and it was rather sweet to hear all his helpful little hints about committing violence so atrocious.

This was why as Ed leaned down his head, Oswald tilted up on his toes and whispered into his ear rather breathily. “Do you have somewhere to lay down, Edward?” And as he asked, he traced the scalpel along that same spot on his rib cage, ruffling his shirt from the pressure and drawing the most delicious little whimper from Ed himself.

“Y-yes, I know just where.”

His decision to climb onto the slab was remarkably quick. It took little to no time to even consider, given how badly he wanted and needed this and soon he was spread out on the table like a corpse ready for autopsy. Still dressed of course but if Oswald had asked that his clothes come off-- well… Ed would oblige anything Oswald asked of him right now. So he lay there on the cool metal, eyes wide beneath the lenses of his glasses as he stared at the way the Oswald began to detail just how he would make the incisions. Peeling away at Jim piece by piece. Ed could imagine the way Jim would scream-- not in pain but in brutal and grotesque horror as he watched Oswald cut away at his numbed skin. Watched as his blood spilled all over the floor. Edward could use a chemical compound or even rudimentary stimuli to keep the detective awake. The blood… All of the blood. It would bathe over Oswald’s hands and over his scalpel and it would be for Ed. All in the name of protecting Ed. Just like he protected Oswald from Dougherty. In all their time of being so close to one another, and of knowing one another as friends and now as more than friends, Ed had never felt this understood. Never felt this loved.

Not in his entire life.

Oswald was so special to him, and Ed hung on every single word as he imagined the effortless beauty of the great Penguin as he claimed a new victim. How many victims had come before? How many different ways must he have killed? What was his preferred weapon? Was he always this thorough? Probably not given the kind of work he does. Sometimes he would need to be quick… But with Jim Gordon, the habitual thorn in the side of anyone who failed to meet his expectations, he was being so very detailed. So delicate. So precise. Cutting open his calves and skinning along his shoulder blades. Examining the bones within and making him look at his own muscle tissue. There was just so much thought...

 _“Maybe he has a history with the detective… Maybe this would be_ **_personal_ **.” He hated that other side of him, but at least the man wasn’t manifesting. Just calling into his excitement hazy mind as Ed’s dark eyes trace the lines of Oswald’s fingers in that very proficient Palmar grip. He likely hadn’t had any formal training, and the hold came naturally to those talented, metaphorically blood stained fingers of his. He focused on that. He ignored the voice of insecurity as Oswald drew the scalpel up along stomach and began moving downward.

Oh… Oh dear… Ed gulped as Oswald brushed the blade over his trousers and particularly the bulge in them. Oh it was torture. Beautiful, amazing torture and Ed forced himself to look up and catch those soft blue eyes in a moment’s gaze. Just a moment, before he latched his eyes back to the blade, but in that moment he saw the expression on Oswald’s face. As much as his every word was striking a rhythm of hunger and lust into Ed as he heard it, they seemed to resound within Oswald as he spoke them. His eyes were harsh, lecherous even and his mouth hung open slightly as he took shallow, soft breaths. Oswald reached out to steady himself and his bad leg as he climbed onto the the surface and on top of Ed. He straddled his waist-- his hips frustratingly inches away from where Ed wanted them, but positioned so that he could lean down so very close as he loosened Ed’s tie. His eyes seemed to dip as Ed’s adam’s apple bobbed from the thick swallow he gave at the proximity. Ed wanted very much to kiss him, but he wanted even more to know just what Oswald’s plan was as he removed Ed’s tie and unbuttoned his collar to--

O-oh… Oh. OH. The scalpel made contact with the bare skin of his neck and Oswald leaned in to whisper in his ear as he ran the blade in a just light enough brush back and forth-- teasingly against his windpipe. As if he were taking practice swings before slitting his throat. Never firm enough to draw blood, but never too light to lose sensation of the contact. The cold metal, his hot flushed skin. The contrast had the already aching man close his eyes tight as tears welled with the sheer force of how badly he wanted something. How much he needed anything. Some friction. Some release.

Soon enough, he would get his wish, and he would live to regret it.

The words Oswald whispers are hushed, muted, and for his ears and his ears alone. “I will never let Jim Gordon or anyone come between you and I, Edward. I promise you that…. Because, as I said…” He drew a breath and leaned back suddenly, scooting back so now his ass rubs against Edward’s throbbing arousal. This offers him everything he needed and more, as Oswald brushes the blade along his cheek bone and growls the words so intently as he grinds into him. “You. Are. MINE.”

This swipe draws blood in a tiny cut along Ed’s face and Oswald smirks as he watches it run down Ed’s pleasure stricken face. That was all he could take. The most he could bare. He finished there and then beneath Oswald in a flurry of need and want and utter satisfaction as he gasped Oswald’s name desperately. And that orgasm… Well, it’s everything. And as always, Oswald is everything. He is perfect. He even leans in to drag his tongue over the trickle of blood and along the cut-- it burns and the moan that escapes the still riding his own orgasm Ed is downright wanton. Soon Ed regains his composure though as the warm wave of ecstasy subsides and he’s left to realize what a profound mess he has made. Oswald will surely be repulsed by his poor impulse control and his lack of experience. He may never want to share an intimate experience with Edward again knowing how poorly he performs. That nagging other self crops up behind where Oswald sits astride him still, and taunts Ed with his cruel words. It wouldn’t be until Ed’s hallucination prompts him to actually yell at the imaginary man that Oswald would realize what had happened.

And of course, he is utterly kind and affectionate over the whole incident.

Which just serves to make his feelings of worry all that much worse. What happens if.. Or even when Oswald realizes what happened to Tom? What happens when he loses him for good? No, no… Ed has to tell him. He has to conquer that fear and be the one to tell him. If he does, he can explain it. Make him understand. If he hears it from someone else, he won’t see Ed’s reasons. He won’t know why Ed did it. He was saving him. He was keeping him safe. Just as Oswald would do for him.

Because they were soul mates, after all.


End file.
